


These Past Five Years

by anticlimacticsubplot



Category: La La Land (2016), La La Land - Fandom
Genre: Angst, F/M, Films, I tried my best, Jazz - Freeform, La La Land, La La Land (2016) - Freeform, Musicals, Ryan Gosling - Freeform, Sebastian is sad, That five year gap that the film skipped over, This was actually a writing for school, emma stone - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 06:11:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12858450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anticlimacticsubplot/pseuds/anticlimacticsubplot
Summary: Sebastian and Mia say that they'll always love one another, but as time goes on they move on, both in their own ways.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this almost a year ago. I honestly have no clue if this is good, and I didn't even read it over, but I'm gonna post it anyways because I'm curious as to how this site works. Any comments are welcome, I really don't care, haha.

Another dotted line sat in front of him, taunting him with two possibilities: signing his name to make the decision final and official and not signing his name. Sebastian had enough money. He accumulated most of it while on the road with The Messengers and had some from a bank account that he tucked away a while ago for when the day finally came, so that wasn't what was holding him back. Maybe it was the fact that he couldn’t revive the Van Beek from samba and tapas. Or maybe it was the patient possibility of compromise that he would still be able to strike up a deal with himself and somehow be able to fly across the Atlantic-- no, he was doing this. She left more than a year ago. She’s doing what she loves, and he needs to do the same.

Putting pen to paper, it took mere seconds, and it was over. The deal was made and money was simultaneously floating over from his account to the owner of this empty block of chipped wood and stained concrete. It needs a lot of work, but if it means that one day… a year… two years… maybe three from this point Sebastian would be able to say that he owns a successful and flourishing jazz club, that’s all the motivation he needs.

But it still lacked a name: something to place all the future charges under and eventually be written across the entrance in big letters. A name people will remember. In the past, Sebastian could have easily gone with his original idea, “Chicken On A Stick”, but there was something about it now that felt and tasted bitter on his tongue. The piece of paper she gave him was probably folded up -- or crumpled -- and tossed onto a dusty shelf or an untouched corner. That doesn’t matter, though, because he knows exactly what’s written on it. Right down to the music note that was used as an apostrophe.

Smiling to himself he wrote down the name he had chosen: “Seb’s”.

Collecting the paperwork he had brought with him Sebastian headed out into the blazing heat and began walking down the sidewalk. Los Angeles in the summer isn’t always the most pleasant (unless you’ve always got a pool immediately at your disposal). Especially when the temperature is approaching one-hundred and the sun is constantly beating down on you. Of course he has to walk in the direction of the sun, so it was shining directly in his eyes. He raised his hand, which was holding the paperwork, to his forehead as some sort of makeshift visor, and kept it there for a block or two.

Suddenly, the sun was gone. He figured it was a cloud, but there had been barely any visible earlier in the day. Dropping his hand to his side Sebastian looked upward to see a billboard. It was new, and it had to be because all of the colors -- red, blue, yellow -- were fully saturated. His eyes softened-- but he'd seen the same poster, of course much smaller, about a week ago, so he kept walking and put his hand back up to his forehead as he passed it by.


	2. Chapter 2

There always comes a time when you can’t ignore things anymore. Whether it takes a couple of days or a year, it always happens. There were various versions of the poster now spread all across the city of Los Angeles. The movie must have really caught on with audiences, and he was glad, but seeing her face every few blocks… maybe it was too much. Sometimes he would find himself staring, reminiscing, admiring, but he still had to devote a sufficient amount of time and effort to his club. Yeah, the walls have been refurbished and painted -- a rather dark blue -- but now he needs to go on a hunt for the right tables, chairs, lights, a bar, and the right amount of shelves and cupboards for storage. On top of all of that, the stage hadn’t even been installed yet.  
He knew what kind of feel and aura he wanted his club to emit: a certain sense of nostalgia to take people back to the golden age of jazz when the Cotton Club and Economy Hall first opened. To enter into an entirely different world and get away from the overused techno beats of modern music, even if it were only to be for a few hours.

Sebastian kept himself a decent distance away from his local movie theater. It took him about a month before he went inside, sat down, and watched it. “Eleanor”, it was called. The theater he was in was nearly full, but the seat he chose was in a particularly empty clot of five seats or so. The ages of the audience members ranged from the youngest of teenagers to adults just about entering their eighties. He wished that his club would be able to draw the same kind of attention.

It was as if he was watching her simply being herself, but on a movie screen. The character she portrayed reflected the stories she told him over dinners and late, night-time drives on the outskirts of the city. Although he knew that the words she spoke and the emotions she expressed were (probably) all part of a script, he could tell that she was happy.  
Sebastian easily became engrossed. He smiled, he laughed, but when the screen faded to black and the credits took their time to roll down the screen he had to take a deep breath, reassess himself, fix his shirt, stand up, and walk away.


	3. Chapter 3

This was his last stop for the night. Sebastian had been purusing around as many jazz clubs as he could in Los Angeles as well as neighboring cities. It may be a little early to start finding other musicians, seeing that it wouldn’t be for another month or two that his own club opened, but he felt better off knowing that he definitely had at least four ready to play when he gave them a call. Luckily, he’d been successful and had the phone numbers to a trumpet player, a bassist, a percussionist, a fellow pianist, and now was eyeballing a saxophone player. Sitting eagerly in the back of the room, he observed, listened, and applauded with every opportunity he was given.

He left the other club relieved. He was able to tuck his phone away for the night knowing that it was one contact heavier.  
All Sebastian had left to worry about was whether or not these musicians were as enthusiastic as him and whether or not people would even consider visiting his club.

 

Weeks passed and now he was just hesitating. Yes, he was excited to open his club. Yes, he wanted to open it as soon as he was able. But he couldn’t keep himself from imagining intimidating scenarios filled with endless critiques and a line of people waiting impatiently to make clear their dissatisfaction.

Sebastian gave each of the musicians a call, letting them know that the next Saturday night he would be opening the doors to the public. Not only did he notify them of what time to be there, but he also asked for their help to spread the word to friends, family, and even strangers if they got the chance. Unbenounced to him, just about all of them already heartily told people about their next venue.

Breathing a sigh of relief as he laid down in his bed for the night, he found that he was blankly staring at the corner of his ceiling. Every now and then he found it difficult to think of anything but her. How could he not? She was everywhere: magazines, talk shows, advertisements on public transportation, and now with the movie being released on DVD there was a new string of posters making their way around the city.


	4. Chapter 4

Sebastian parked in his usual spot just around the corner, but yet out of the way. Every night those reds, blues, and yellows jump out at him blindingly and he asks himself why he agreed to let the poster be painted onto the side of his building.

He knows why, and she was sitting right in front of him.

At a loss for words, he just stared for a moment that felt like ten. With a deep breath and a thickness in his throat, “Welcome to Seb’s.”

 

Years seemed to stretch by as his fingers graced over the keys. The gentle echo of the piano brought him closer to her. Sebastian could see and feel the mornings they spent waking up next to each other, the gentle kisses, and the heartfelt embraces. He could remember the nights they would spend curled up on the couch with his record player scratching in their ears and his hand absentmindedly getting tangled in her hair.

They were his memories, and they meant everything to him, but he offered her a genuine smile as she walked away.


End file.
